


Stones and Walls

by gilraecinn



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, More characters to come, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilraecinn/pseuds/gilraecinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins, an employee of a small company which provides precious gems to the jewelry industry, is desperately looking for a change in his dull life and grabbing every chance given to him will certainly won't be proved helpful. His choices will make him leave the comfort of home and pack for a long trip with his new partner, Thorin Oakenshield, in order to find a rare gemstone, the Arkenstone. </p><p>But they're not the only ones looking for it ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The visit

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic with an actual plot I've ever wrote (and was willing enough to make the necessary correcting and edit in order to upload it). I will be honest with you and say that I haven't wrote the next chapter yet, but I can ensure you that I will because i am so excited with the plot and have so many ideas that i will try to execute.

There was no option for Mr. Baggins – he had to accept this job. It was the best offer he had since the beginning of the year (and perhaps even longer) and as his mother used to say "you should never turn your back at chances that you find interesting even for a second’’. He was beginning to get the idea of his mother’s words.

He had to try in some measure and grab the chance. Who knows, maybe it was for the best. More than that, a change in this part of his life was necessary.  
He saw the new job offer as a good omen judging by the fact that nothing good had happened for the last two years. But he couldn’t make up his mind. Not just yet.

“Oh, well, two years is a long time” he stopped the train of his thoughts saying the words out loud but the frightened look in the eyes of the lady sitting on the seat next to him in the bus made him regretting it the next moment. He gave her a firm look back and the old lady almost covered her face behind her purse.

This was the bus that was taking him home after a long day to work. “Better behave yourself, Baggins, you don’t want them to leave you on the street” he warned himself and stayed quiet for the rest of the route.

The lady kept looking at him keeping a distance.

“Christ, these old people on the buses” he thought turning his face around and glared out the window.

It was a rainy evening and the scent of dank earth was filling the air. Leaving the bus (and its nosy passengers) he pulled his coat closely around his body making sure that his neck is fully covered by the collar cursing that client who distracted him the moment he was ready to leave the office making him leave his scarf behind.

He hastily turned the corner and inhaled deeply closing his eyes for a second before he moves forward to his final destination.

“Will this day ever end?” he said to no one when he finally stepped in the hall, kicked his shoes off and threw the keys in the tiny wooden box. The tingling noise made him frown.

“Uh, will you shut up? God, I keep talking to myself for the last two days” he cried.

That was true. He had a lot of things in his mind and talking to someone who understands always helped him. And that someone is himself. Some of the things that currently make him upset is his broken bike, the empty refrigerator and some bills that he’s apparently going to pay with yellow autumn leaves which is the closest he has in money right now and he can easily collect them. He only needs a breeze and an open window.

“I desperately need tea and then bury myself in the armchair. Oh, and I have to finish that book I borrowed a month ago from the library” he was muttering while trying too hard to turn on the boiler.

“Bloody thing!” he punched the ‘bloody thing’ and it responded with a ‘ting’.

For a few seconds, Bilbo was just staring at the machine with his mouth half opened.

“Now you are joking, right?” he made one more remarkable try to turn it on and failed.

He took a deep breath and headed to the front door when he usually leaves his keys and coat. He put on his robe, took the keys (he didn’t forget to glare furiously at the keys for causing him a mini head explosion earlier that evening – against the fact that it was his fault).

He slipped into the neighbor’s back yard and climbed on the terrace. He stumbled against a chair in the dark “Good, my day’s getting better and better”.

The reason he had to climb in his sleeping robe, at 7:00 pm, during a thunder storm – which is common in that time of year at this place of Earth - was that they never let their back door open for him, how rude.

He tapped his fingers against the window slightly and the pink (why pink? Bilbo have been always disliked that color) curtain was dragged away. But, wait a minute, there was nobody there!

Moments of pure confusion followed. Bilbo’s face looked so absurd trying desperately to realize what was going on. He made an attempt to get the pieces of his mind together which seem to slowly but steady abandoning their place inside his head the last days.

At that exact moment he caught a glimpse of his reflection on the window’s glass and oh, he laughed and probably still laughing.

The door opened and a tiny hand appeared out of nowhere and dragged him inside. It was the neighbor’s son, of course it was. Who else could it be?

“Mister Bilbo!” the boy in blue pajamas hugged him tight and Bilbo tapped his back gently. “Did you lose your keys again?”. That ‘again’ hit him so hard. He had lost his keys way too many times.

“No, Sam, not the keys this time” he smiled to the child who was now noticing that the visitor didn’t have shoes on.

“Mister Bilbo? Where are your shoes?”

Where were they, indeed. Bilbo looked down “Holy sh-“

“Shhh, mom is coming!”

Miss Gamgee approached them with a cup of tea in her hands. “Good evening, Mr Baggins.” She had probably heard his voice otherwise she would be more alarmed for the unexpected visit.

In fact, this family was used to unexpected visits from their “wacky” (as they used to say) neighbor. But they liked him anyway and were always welcoming him with a warm smile (and fresh baked cookies in case that they hadn’t been gobbled up by little Sam).

“Oh, please don’t stand there, come in, come in!” she showed him the way to the living room with her hand. A warm light was coming from the hall. The whole place was warm and cozy and there was a smell of carrot cake everywhere.

“It is very tempting, your offer, Miss Gamgee” said Bilbo and his voice sounded weak and trembling because of a chill ran down his spine. It was cold outside and don’t forget the fact that he didn’t had shoes on ‘’But I’m in a hurry –“

“Tell me something new, Bilbo” he interrupted him with a kind smile. “You always are, darling. So, how can I help you this time? It’s not the keys, right?”

“N-no, no... Something more important” he looked worried, and looked the woman straight in the eyes.

“Robert broke” he cried and slowly brought his palm on his face after realizing that he just said that.

The woman looked at him and stepped back “Oh my God, what happ-“

“No, no, no, no… Christ” he couldn’t believe that he had to explain that Robert was in fact the boiler. “It’s … eh …hmmm …” a weak laughter followed but it didn’t make the woman feel less worried. “D- don’t look like that. I mean... The boiler? It broke!” he finally said it!

“Oh, Bilbo!”

“I… Can I borrow yours? Just for now? It won’t take me a long time to make a cup of tea”. He smiled broadly at her, begging her internally, knowing that he will need it again soon and he will be too shy to come back and ask for it.

“Of course you can, dear, keep it if you want to, I have a second one” she paused for a second or two “I call it Rachel” she laughed too much. The ’god-I-make-the-funniest-jokes’ kind of laughter. “You can have Rachel”.

Oh, God, that was the best thing he’d heard that day. Not Miss Gamgee’s joke, of course not. The fact that he was going to keep the boiler and won’t have to go to the market the next morning filled him with a warm feeling. Waking up early on Sundays is worse than any medieval torture and he does anything to avoid it.

“She must have enjoyed the joke too much” thought Bilbo when he finally locked himself in his house with the new boiler in his arms. He stared at it and whispered “Don’t fail me”.  
Then he looked at his bare feet “How on Earth? Really now?” a huge and long sigh escaped his mouth.

"Gosh, I need to sleep”.  
And it started raining.

Bilbo Baggins never had a job that he had loved instantly. He tends to love things after a while, when they become a habit.

He also tends to spend the weekends and afternoons alone but he is not lonely. For Bilbo there is no such thing as loneliness for he never feels like that. There are certain people in his life who make his days meaningful and can fill a black day with a bit of grey and if they try harder, grey becomes white.

He enjoys a quiet evening as much as he enjoys loud music. He loves coffee as much as he loves tea. He gives to the electrical devices he uses at house random names, mainly because it used to be a game he loved when he was a child.

Bilbo Baggins is grateful for his simple life in London as much as he is for the life he lived in Bag End when he was still a small boy. He also tends to keep things in his memory a lot. He remembers everything others easily forget. A very useful skill, if you like spending the afternoons sitting in a cozy armchair near the fireplace looking for a distraction to avoid sleeping and wasting the whole evening (which is something Bilbo Baggins has turned into a bad habit).

He remembers days, moments, people, those he likes and those who haven’t left a very good impression to him. Smells, songs, a rainy day from the past, a simple wooden bird toy his father made him when he was four. Things like poems, quotes from his favorite books.

These are his precious memories, everything he holds dear. He feels rather grateful for what’s in his mind for he somehow manages to keep only the good things in there. For example, he remembers a specific day better than his phone number (which is something that he usually forgets; if you can believe it). Everyone was present. And ‘everyone’ in this case means no more than three or four people. It was a normal day, not Christmas or Halloween or any of these “special” days in which people tend to enjoy themselves more than every other day of the year.

There were friends, good wine (thank Galadriel for this, she has the best taste in wine), laughter (that’s probably Bilbo’s fault, if we can blame him) and of course awkward moments (if we have to blame someone for that, that will definitely be Bofur). And good food. We can’t forget food. Bilbo had cooked himself for his friends and had received too many compliments for the pasta he made that he thought they were actually mocking him for making pasta one more time.

Bilbo Baggins has no more than two close friends. Despite the fact that he is a very likable person. People he works with never miss the chance to invite him for a pint or two for they know that they will have a good time if Bilbo is around (especially if they manage to convince him to have more than two pints).

The closest friend to Bilbo is Galadriel, a successful business woman, who owns a travel agency company and never stays in the same place for more than three weeks is one of the two. The other friend is, of course Bofur. He knows Bilbo better than anyone and also knows how to sail a boat in the oceans, for he is a sailing instructor and spends most of his life on the boat far away from the shore. Bilbo never understood why his friend is so obsessed with being as far as possible from the coast.

“You’ve never done this, that’s why you keep saying that you’ll never like it’’ said Bofur one day while he was ready to say ‘Goodbye’ to his friend for the sixth time in this month only.

Bilbo gave him a firm look that made him moving faster like he wanted to sail away as soon as possible to survive a huge explosion. That was mostly because Bilbo was about to explode.

“Uh, forgive me for not finding anything interesting in being alone for four months, under the stars, watching nothing but the sunrise and waves and—“ Bofur interrupted him with a simple hand gesture “yeah, yeah, before you make it sound more romantic that it actually is, c’mere” he managed to hide the grin on his face while watching his friend trying too hard not to look too annoyed for being interrupted.

“My God, I hope you’re not doing this because it’s … romantic” he spelled the last word like it’s the most appalling thing on Earth.

Bofur laughed “I have to leave in a few minutes, y’know” he pulled him closer for a hug “I don’t want to leave without saying a proper goodbye to you”.

And with these words, his friend left once again, leaving a blank space next to the return day in his calendar. Bilbo is used to be (left) alone, he likes it. He enjoys every moment spent with himself (as much as he loves talking to himself). He loves his house, a quite big apartment next to the Ancient History museum. He chose that house for that reason. He’s that kind of man that can be found in the metro buried in a book with a fancy cover, a cup of coffee (or tea – you can’t tell) next to him, glasses (sometimes yes, sometimes no) and a cardigan or a coat, depends on the weather.  
That’s Bilbo Baggins. “Mad Baggins” to his closest friends.

__________________________________________________________________________

It has already been a week since Bofur’s departure, and Bilbo receives a phone call from Galadriel and the next day she is standing at the front door holding a bouquet of white daisies and a single red rose in the middle. It’s one of her rare visits at his home for a cup of black tea (always black tea for her – and if Bilbo is in a good mood, which is almost all the time, you might find flavored black tea and some cookies to go with it).

“Always with the flowers” said Bilbo while leaning in to kiss his friend on her cheeks and to receive a warm kiss in return.

“I can’t come to this place without the flowers, you know that”.

It is a habit Galadriel can’t overcome. She loves giving flowers to people as much as she loves accepting a huge bouquet. Especially when the flowers are addressed to Bilbo Baggins.

There is something pure and innocent, if you like, about Bilbo that makes people treat him like a child.  
His friend, Galadriel, knows how to treat a child for she has two of her own.

They were chatting for hours – it must have been sunset according to the dim pink light and the breeze that was coming in the room from the open window beside them. It was a quite warm October day.

They talked about everything, as usual. About the new job Bilbo was offered – and he hasn’t make up his mind yet- about the next journey Galadriel was planning, for mad Bofur as they used to call him (in response to ‘Mad Bilbo’, well, they are all mad, that’s for sure).

“You shouldn’t waste this place, you know” she said looking around, examining the old paintings hanged on the wall in front of her over the fireplace like she just noticed their presence for the very first time.

“I’m not actually wasting it, you know” he replied in the same tone. “I happen to live in it” his voice became joyful and they shared a laugh.

“Come on” she looked at him earnestly “you know what I mean”.  
She was now leaning on the counter watching the pouring milk coloring the jasmine flavored black tea with a warm brown color as Bilbo was refilling the cup with the hot beverage.

“Help me a bit, will you” he smiled at her “you know I am not good with riddles”. That is a terrible terrible lie; he is very good with riddles. He likes making them himself and watching his friends struggling to guess the correct answer.

“Ha, no, we’re not playing that game again. But I believe it’s quite fair this time since you will be be the one who makes the guess” she said touching gently Bilbo’s shoulder with her pointer finger.

“O-oh, ok, alright then!” he gingerly sipped the hot beverage caring too much not to take his eyes of the last cinnamon cookie in the deep white bowl (and of course not to burn his tongue or something).

“Well, ehm…uh” he shifted his eyes trying to look serious and failed resoundingly, of course he failed! He could never be serious when Galadriel was around. And she could never look into his dark blue eyes and not smile or sometimes even burst into laughter for no particular reason.

It was something that was going on and on for years and years. They both feel inexplicably comfortable when the other is present. The two of them have the time of their lives whenever they meet, enjoying each other’s company, loving each other, if you want. Only the thought of having each other in their lives is a powerful comfort for both of them. “You mean the place is big. You said that I’m wasting this place so you mean that it’s big”,

“Clever boy! And?”

“Y- you actually want me to have someone… I mean, here… in this house, with me!” he was surprised of how weak his voice sounded. He thought of these words as they were coming one after the other out of his mouth.

He purposely let a few seconds of silence to pass and then he added ‘’to live with me?”

She nodded and mouthed “yes”. “And there is a certain someone in my mind right now”.  
Her smile was big and her eyes widened as she was leaning closer to her friend like she was trying to estimate the level of confusion which was now quite obvious in her friend’s look.

“Oh –OH! Hm-hm, right” he cleared his throat while straightening his green sweater up. He tried his best not to look disoriented.  
He wished now, more than ever that his friend would never had started this conversation. It was going too well. He had a good time. It had to end. It’s unacceptable to have a good time, isn’t it.

After a few moments he finally replied “I get it now! It took me a long time but I finally got it.” he smiled to her.  
“The truth is that I knew what you meant from the beginning of this conversation. I - I just didn’t want to – well – you know“.  
He prayed that Galadriel did know because he didn’t. He had no clue how he’sfeeling for this.

He wanted to think, he needed more time but, alas, there wasn’t time. He knew there wasn’t enough time. Whatever has to be done, it has to be done now. He was forced to decide.

“Ok, so, what do you say?” asked Galadriel in a cheerful tone looking like a child who has just asked from someone a long waited favor.

Bilbo looked at her and a tiny sigh escaped his lips “We can’t have him here, Galadriel! I cannot have him here”. He couldn’t believe that he said this. Was it that easy to avoid such a big responsibility?

No, not really.

His friend was looking at him quite disappointed and Bilbo couldn’t stand that look on her face.  
“N-no! D-don’t make that face... You keep making that face when you want me to do something. Can you just… uh … Don’t!? Please”

She placed a hand on his knee and squeezed it a couple of times “It will be a joy having him around, he’s a sweetheart, you can’t leave him with these people, my dear Bilbo!” She was waiting for an answer.

“Damn...” he said finally “you’re a trouble!” he pointed at her “And what’s coming up later this year will be the biggest trouble and will give me massive headaches and-”

“And the greatest happiness you could possibly imagine” she interrupted him giving him a reassuring broad smile knowing very well that her smile can have only the best effects on people.

“Uh… I am not sure if I am doing the right thing by letting you having such an influence on me” he replied almost whispering in doubt.  
Galadriel stood up and placed both hands around the man’s shoulders and brushed them against his arms.

“You are going to be fine! You are both going to be just fine” she said slowly and tucked a stray golden curl behind the man’s ear placing a kiss on his forehead to make him believe that everything is going to be alright and that she will be there for him.

When they looked at each other again Bilbo took a deep breath filling his lungs with cold air and smiled again. He looked out of the window. The sun was now heading west and the sky was painted purple and blue. Some stars were slightly visible and the trembling silver light was trying to shine in the falling night.

“So, it’s decided!” he said jovially and for a moment his head was filled with optimistic thoughts and bright colorful images.

“I’m taking little Frodo home!”

He paused to think for a moment “He’s absolutely not having the bigger bedroom”.


	2. The beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter you will find information that are useful for the next chapters.  
> That's why it's quite small.  
> I really hope you're enjoying reading the work so far :)  
> I promise it will become interesting in the future chapters. ;)

He had trouble sleeping that night.

When Galadriel left he tried to make himself comfortable in his armchair but it was a fruitless effort. Bilbo couldn’t loosen up and turn a blind eye to the fact that he would have to take the responsibility of a child!

“What have I done?” he whispered in the dark room and closed his eyes to find some peace in the moment.

He knew that it was going to be fun. He was in fact trying to convince himself that it was going to be fun having a child around and taking care of it. Galadriel had said to him that they were both going to be alright, Frodo and him. And he knew he could trust her.

But it was pretty hard to make up his mind. The one moment he was happy about it and the next he was scared and unsure of what’s going to happen to both of them.

Little Frodo was a quiet boy. Bilbo enjoys being with him. He never misses a chance to visit him in the boy’s aunt’s house where he temporarily lives after the tragic accident which had cost his parents’ lives.

The whole Baggins family tried to help the boy to readjust to the new life; especially his aunt Dora, his father’s sister, who had no children of her own and never get married

She decided to take little Frodo home and everybody agreed (mainly because nobody really wanted to take care of a child out of nowhere – even those who had children already).

Bilbo was very grateful to this woman for what she’s been doing and he felt a serious and real pain right in the chest like somebody had stabbed him through the heart when he learned that she got sick and will be no longer able to take care of the boy.

His mind was focused on Frodo since the day his parents died. What a tragedy for a boy who had just lost his parents, to be forced to move to another house and begin from zero. And on top of that, the woman who took over the duties of raising him has to part from him as soon as he started to feel like home.

Since aunt Dora was sick all eyes were now on Bilbo. He seemed to be the best choice but he had to agree first. They couldn’t give him a child without his consent. The truth is that they would probably be ok with that idea and he was worried that one day he would find a small child waiting outside his door holding tight a stuffed animal.

But it was him who had given them hopes. Every time he was visiting Aunt Dora with his hands full (he couldn’t go to her house without stopping at the nearest toy shop and picking the coolest toy for Frodo) they were complimenting him.

“Look how you care about Frodo. You would be a great father” they used to say planting ideas and thoughts in their own heads.

It was Galadriel who had finally convinced him that he was the best for Frodo. And let’s not forget that if Bilbo had said no, little Frodo would be obliged to live with the Sackville – Baggins. Oh no, he couldn’t allow this. These people had only one thing in their minds and it certainly wasn’t Frodo’s wellbeing. Their son, Lotho, a spoilt and noisy little bug wouldn’t be a very good effect on Frodo.

So, to protect the child he had to say “yes”. At first, he was scared to give a positive answer to all the relatives who were waiting but he quickly changed his mind, especially after Galadriel’s visit.

Now he had said “yes” to her and himself. He had already made certain phone calls, signed certain papers and called certain people to his place to decorate the boy’s room. Frodo’s bedroom was now ready to welcome the boy; unlike Bilbo.

“At last! The bedroom’s done! It looks rather nice, don’t you think?” He took a sip of his coffee and immediately regretted this move when he felt the cold beverage going down his throat. The coffee wasn’t supposed to be cold. He carefully placed the cup on the coffee table, making room for it between five other cups.

This was the sixth or seventh cup for that day. He couldn’t remember even if his life was depending on it.

Galadriel, who had come at some point to give a helpful hand to her friend, nodded behind a pile of empty boxes.

“I think we did a good job today, what do you say?” she asked the man and noticed that he looked like he was having the worst day of his life.

“Yes, indeed!” answered Bilbo and grabbed a pillow. He put the pillow behind his head and lied back. This was a long day and all he wanted now is to sneak in under the blankets and sleep for days even weeks.

He was dreaming of a cozy and warm bed and covers when a finger tapped his forehead softly.

“Hey, sleepy head!” Galadriel was standing in front of him, hands around her waist.

He had apparently fallen asleep.

“Hm?”

“Yeah, why don’t you go to bed already? You look drained” she replied.

With eyes half open and gathering every single clue given around him to realize where he was - feeling rather disappointed that he wasn’t where he should be (in bed) - he managed to stand up.

“I won’t be able to close my eyes for a second so…”

“So… Coffee?” asked Galadriel.

“Coffee.”

Yes, a cup of hot coffee never hurt anyone. Let’s ignore the fact that it was the eighth he had that day.

The day was coming to an end (it was about time) and Galadriel had left hours ago leaving him alone.

His whole body was complaining especially his head. He had carried too many boxes, chairs, toys, a bed and other furniture that day. A hot shower seemed like an excellent idea at the moment.

The running water on his shoulders and hair revived him completely and he felt lighter as the soap was cleaning the dirt off his tired body.

With nothing but a towel around his waist he walked to the kitchen. Slow and heavy steps led him up the stairs, to Frodo’s bedroom. He stood at the door and looked around. It was really happening, after all! No, he didn’t want to think about it now. Whatever is going to happen, he will have to accept it and focus on the boy. He was scared but at least he knew that Frodo likes him and he likes him back. It will be a fruitful adventure, he kept saying himself.

He was walking down the stairs when the phone rang. He jumped in fear and the towel almost fall. Well, he could let it fall since nobody was home but he remembered that time when he was walking with nothing but socks at the exact same spot and caught a shadow behind the nearest apartment’s curtain. You can imagine the shame he felt that kept going for months.

He blushed furiously at the memory of that unfortunate incident (absolutely fortunate for the lady across the street, just so you know) and cursed the sound of the phone that was starting to get annoying.

“I am obviously not at home! Could you just…” he picked the phone up and cleared his throat three times “Hello?”

There was a woman’s voice on the other end of the line speaking so quickly he could barely understand what she was saying. He knew who it was. He caught words like “company”, “jewelry” , “job” , “big salary for it is a demanding job, sir”… Wait, what?

“Excuse me, sorry, can you – can you repeat that, please?” He would have asked her to repeat everything but wouldn’t that be disrespectful, definitely not polite? Bilbo wasn’t like that.

“Sure” the voice answered “You will be highly rewarded, sir. Our company is generous” the lady paused “And big. Have I already mentioned “big”?”

“I have no idea, I wasn’t even listening, to be quite honest” he was ready to say but stopped himself in time.

“So, ok, let’s say that my answer is ‘yes’, hm? What exactly do I have to do, again?” he asked innocently and the woman explained in great detail.

It’s been an hour since the phone call. Bilbo was sitting on a chair, eyes glued to the empty cup in front of him. He had forgotten to put something on. He had forgotten to put the phone back and it was still in his hand.

“Wait, what did just happen?” a weak laughter escaped his lips.

What had happened was that they had offered him the job he was dreaming of since he was a child while playing in the green fields hunting butterflies or collecting all kind of stones.

His eyes wandered around the room. There were photos and posters of great adventurers like his father, his grandfather and, let’s not forget, Indiana Jones. 

The only reason that Bilbo had a poster of Indiana Jones hanging on the living room’s wall, between other photos of his childhood, unknown relatives, random notes, maps, torn pages of books was because of a joke between him and Bofur.

They both wanted to do something great like he did in the movies. Bofur had already followed his steps! He is now sailing the oceans on “Carta Esferica” and having the time of his life, living the ultimate dream.

Bilbo was secretly envying and admiring him for his will and strength to leave everything behind and make “Carta” his second home. Bofur knew it very well despite the fact that Bilbo seemed always to be against his friend’s choice.

Was now Bilbo’s turn to leave his home and run off into the blue to meet a great and unforgettable experience, like both of his friends do?

The deal was simple. He had to pack his stuff (mainly maps, books, tools, clothes), get a cab to the airport and fly to … Erebor? Where on earth (literally) is this Erebor? He had no clue!

The first thing he did when he found the strength to get up after the shock – he was very lucky that he had escaped the panic attack – was to look on his maps for Erebor’s position on the planet. He felt so clueless, he didn’t even know in which continent it was. The only clue he had was that he was looking for a mountain. That woman on the phone had told him that Erebor was a mountain.

When he realized that his fingers were too shaky to unfold the map, he turned on the laptop and waited impatiently for it to start.

He started typing.

“E-re-bor” he mouthed slowly as he was pressing the buttons one by one. An endless list of sites showed up. He clicked on the first option.

After two hours of research, he had gathered all the information he found interesting and useful. He got up to make a cup of coffee. The night was going to last forever.

Bilbo sat back to his uncomfortable chair with a cup of coffee in one hand and a half sandwich in the other. He left the coffee on the table and picked up one of the pieces of paper he had written earlier. He started reading out loud. It always helped him remember things easily.

“So, Erebor is a mountain, obviously. So far so good.” He took a bite of the sandwich and he felt immediately better as all his energy was drained that morning. He also remembered that he didn’t have a meal the whole day - not even breakfast, imagine that.

“Ok, it is, in fact, on an island somewhere between …. “ he looked on a map next to him “… let’s see, yes, right here!” his fingers pointed on a little spot on the map between Norway and Iceland.

“It’s not that far, after all” he thought out loud and placed his arms around his waist.

“Let’s ignore the massive amount of water between these two countries. It’s in the middle of nowhere, basically! Good, good”

The next day found Bilbo sleeping on the sofa under a pile of books, maps, papers. He woke up terrified (and dressed – he couldn’t remember how did that happened) and started digging a hole to escape. Once he did, he sat on the sofa with his eyes closed for a while.

The previous night could be a dream or a memory. For a moment he thought that it was something he had dreamed about in the past. But the mess in the room proved the exact different. It was real.

Bilbo headed straight to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee but came back looking defeated. There was no mug left.

Apparently, he had used them all last night and never washed any. He picked up three cups of the floor, an empty plate and a bottle – what was in that bottle? He couldn’t remember.

Everything was going alright (Bilbo himself would’ve probably had name the situation “perfect” if you’d asked him). He had already made a list of the necessary things he was going to carry with him. He needed to think a lot to make a useful list. It was important to keep in mind that he will have to wander in caves and dark tunnels. Equipment was required. He had that, of course. Things as ropes, tools, a sleeping bag, a pair of climbing shoes, helmets and all kind of protection devices.

He was running up and down in the house, collecting all the parts of the climbing and camping equipment. Most of them were in one place, thank God, but he had to look harder for some others like the rope and the quickdraws. To find them Bilbo had to visit the basement. He never liked going down there.

The place was dark and full of dusty memories. His old bike was even there. Oh, he remembered how much he misses it and smiled but his eyes were emotionless. It was a bitter smile. One of these that make the whole body feels tired and older. He passed all the boxes and shelves without giving them a single glance – he wanted to but he knew that it would only make him sad and he didn’t want to let anything ruin this moment of pure bliss and happiness – and walked straight to the box he was looking for.

How he managed to climb the stairs with a pile of ropes and webbing material in his hands without killing himself by falling, he will never know.

Everything appears to be in order but he was feeling like he was forgetting something important; something very important.

He looked around to make sure that he didn’t forget something that he will regret. His sight stopped on the boxes he and Galadriel were carrying all morning. He froze. So this was it. Frodo! Frodo was supposed to come home next week! Bilbo was supposed to leave for Erebor next week. That was definitely a problem. He was too tired to think of a solution. The only thing that was certain was that Frodo couldn’t stay any longer with Aunt Dora.

Before he surrenders himself entirely to the upcoming panic attack, an idea came up into his mind to save the day – and his life eventually.

He breathed a sigh of relief and felt like a massive weight was off his chest.

“This could work if Frodo agrees” he thought while looking for something on the desk. He sighed “I have to clean this mess someday”.

The next move was to stop everything he was doing and prepare himself something to eat.

“I am going to starve to death before the journey. What a stupid way to miss it” he said when he realized that there was nothing in the fridge.

While he was slowly putting on his shoes to go out and buy something to cook, a thought distracted him. He lifted his head up to stare in the mirror in front of him. He was looking at his reflection, eyes shifted.

He slipped his fingers through his hair trying to focus on that thought that had just popped up. He remembered the woman on the phone saying something about a partner.

Yes, that’s it. He wasn’t going alone at Erebor. Somebody was coming with him. But who was that somebody?

The woman must had told him the name of this man but he completely forgot it like it was unimportant. But it wasn’t. Not at all. He had to find that man and arrange a meeting with him before the flight. They had to talk about many things, about work. Basically, they need to get to know each other. They were going to live together (inside the caves of Erebor, let’s not forget about that minor detail) for six months, after all.

But he couldn’t remember his name. 

"Gosh, I need to find that bloody name on the phonebook and call him as soon as possible. Why on earth didn't I write that down?"

He started looking for a clue on his desk. Perhaps he did write it down after all but couldn't remember where.

His eyes stopped on a small yellow piece of paper that was closer to the phone. He read ''Thorin Oakenshield".

Of course, names like that are impossibe to forget or impossible to remember. Who could possibly blame him?

"Good, we have a name. Now we need to call him" he looked around for the phonebook but it wasn't anywhere beside him. "Alright, we're doing it tomorrow then"

He was too lazy to look for it and the constant use of the pronoun "we" started to become quite weird.

He finally put his shoes on, grabbed his coat and went out.


	3. Accidental meeting

What was making the company successful was the special way to provide the numerous factories with gems used for the pieces they were creating. They were after the most beautiful ones. Dark red or blue, sparkling pink, bright like the sunlight. Those which could make the most desirable jewelry for the most demanding clients.

What they’re doing is hiring skillful people to go after a particular stone each time and bring it back to be cut, calibrated and polished. The gems are finally used as the main valuable gemstone for the next line of jewelry. Necklaces, jades, rings, earrings, all of them made of this stone. So, the company had to send an expert (or two) to find it.

They weren’t just choosing random names of a list. No. There was a special team for that task. People were going through much trouble to find the right person and this time they were pretty optimist that the chosen duo was a promising one. The two experts the company had chosen were Bilbo Baggins, a qualified man with an experience on valuable stones that everyone would be jealous of and Thorin Oakenshield.

This was the name Bilbo couldn’t remember even if somebody had offered him all the gold in the world. It belonged to the man who had made the Company rich by the great number of stones he had found through the years. His own collection was remarkably huge. He had so many that he could open his own business any time. But Thorin Oakenshield is definitely not the type of man who sits on a chair behind a desk and counts pearls and tiny crystals using nothing but a monocle. He is the one who collects them. He is hunting the beauty in any shape, size and color.

A collector. That’s how he introduces himself to all these people who are dying to shake his hand and have a small chat with him at the front door of the building or listen to one of his adventures. But they must have all the luck by their side to find him there, because it is hard to find Thorin Oakenshield of all men.

Thorin Oakenshield owns a large house downtown which is hidden behind a long line of tall trees. Most of them he had planted by himself. He enjoys gardening as much as he enjoys flying to unknown lands with nothing but a backpack with his personal things – which they were the same since his first journey - and his tools.

He is a lighthearted man with joyous humor. But this is nothing more than a clever way to hide the shadow in his eyes. One has to look closely to notice the hint of sadness that had become a loyal companion of his the last two years.

He knows how to make people laugh and always has a good joke for every single person he meets that they will remember for the rest of the day and still laugh with it when the week comes to an end.

It is important for Thorin to keep doing what he loves and holds dear. His job is all he had left after all – apart from the huge mansion but it was the thing he cared so little about and that made his house looking completely abandoned.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

That day Bilbo’s house was expecting not just one resident but two. Bilbo had woken up early and walked into the new bedroom. He looked around and brushed the wooden surface of the door with a finger.

”So, it’s happening after all” he let a sigh escape his lungs and a smile followed to make the stress go away.

It turned out that it wasn’t that easy. 

He couldn’t stop thinking of uncomfortable thoughts and scenarios. He was completely aware of the fact that he had no life experience or the knowledge of how to raise a child. But he also knew better than anyone how to make little Frodo open his heart and trust him. So, he wanted to believe that it was going to be fine.

The fact that he wasn’t sure if his decision was the right one in combination with the fact that it definitely wasn’t the right time to think like that and there was no turning back made his stomach hurt and he felt like thousand butterflies were flying inside of it and he could feel some of them climbing his throat causing him to choke. He needed to stop having bad thoughts. But how? How was that even possible?

He put on his coat and stepped out the front door. Luckily, a cab stopped before he raised his hand and he sat in the backseat. He started biting the inside of his cheeks. The cab was driving slow and this wasn’t a good time for the driver to give him a careful drive.

”Excuse me, could you go a bit faster?” he snapped and the driver frowned. “I am in a hurry.” Bilbo added and tried really hard to make his voice sound like he was serious.

”Sorry, sir, you are the second in line”.

Bilbo rolled his eyes, what does ‘second in line’ even means?

He sat behind and crossed his arms. His feet were going up and down nervously making an annoying noise that apparently disturbed his co-passenger who was sitting right next to him quite relieved that Bilbo hadn’t noticed him when he opened the cab’s door five minutes before.

Bilbo certainly wouldn’t had noticed him at all if he hadn’t spoken.

”You can drive him first, it’s ok with me.” Said the man and Bilbo almost bumped his head on the roof in fear. He turned his head to look at the source of the deep voice which had just got him out of a stressful situation.

A dark haired man was sitting right next to him the whole time and he had no clue. His hair was lifted up in a messy ponytail and a short beard was covering half of his face. He somehow looked important in his dark colored suit and open shirt. Bilbo lowered his head when the man looked at him avoiding subtly meeting his eyes and rested his glasses on his nose pinning them at the bridge with a finger. He turned his head clumsily to face the window. He felt the man beside him doing the same.

They finally got to the airport. Bilbo paid for the drive and slammed the door behind him. The cab drove away leaving a smell of gas and tires behind it.

”Crap!” breathed Bilbo. He didn’t manage to thank the stranger and he felt guilty right away. He would never have the chance to thank him and he forced himself to forget about it for now and worry perhaps later.

”Bilbo!” he heard somebody calling his name from behind and he turned to see. At the exact moment he felt tiny arms hugging his legs and he almost lost his balance.

He picked little Frodo (of course it was Frodo, who else could it be) up and mimicked airplane noises as he lifted the boy up and set him on his shoulders. Frodo laughed and Bilbo felt his insides warm and light.

A woman came closer. It was Aunt Lobelia. She had come with Frodo and was the one who had signed to escort the child on his flight. She gave her usual overconfident look to Bilbo and extended her hand. Bilbo took it and gave her a brief handshake. It didn’t last not even a full second.

”Good morning, dear Bilbo.” said Lobelia after a while. Bilbo simply nodded and pretended that he was helping Frodo to tie his shoelaces even though the boy could perfectly do it on his own. But nevertheless, he enjoyed all the care he was receiving so far.

”Is everything ready?” the woman had no intention to leave Bilbo in peace.

”Yes, Lobelia! Did you and Frodo enjoy your flight?” he asked and picked the boy’s suitcase up trying to avoid looking at her without expecting an answer. He knew that Frodo had enjoyed it. The boy looked happy and excited to be there with Bilbo.

Fortunately, the woman didn’t seem to mind the fact that Bilbo was completely ignoring her. They got into the first cab they found and let Frodo sit in the middle pretending that they didn’t hear him begging to sit by the window. 

Bilbo ruffled his little cousin’s hair playfully and he giggled. “We’ll be home soon” he whispered in his ear and the boy smiled to him.

His confident smile was enough to make Bilbo feel less worried for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a small chapter mostly because I didn't have enough time to write more and of course I don't like to give many infos in one chapter only. So, I guess this is going to be a long fic.  
> I really hope you enjoyed reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	4. Destination: Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Bagginshield moments u w u

They were both up early that day – their first day together. Both of them were excited but Frodo had an unusual talent to show his excitement a bit more than Bilbo. He was jumping up and down on his new bed messing the sheets. He couldn’t stop playing with the train Bilbo had bought for him (even if he needed to connect the parts first to make it move).

His toys – those he had brought with him - were resting on the floor and he hadn’t even touched them. Bilbo took it as a good sign. He thought that this could work as a way of adjustment for the boy to the new place.

Bilbo left Frodo alone with his new toys and walked to the first floor. He took a deep breath in and held it for two or three seconds. He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes to listen. It was quiet. The only thing he could hear was the distant sounds of toys crashing on the floor. But the sounds seemed to fade out. With his eyes still closed he tried to reach the chair beside him. He finally sat down and tried to think, breathing deeper and deeper.

He couldn’t figure out why he was so scared and what he was scared of.

He stood up but felt his head swirling and all of a sudden he felt weak in the knees. He sat back down “Oh, God!” he said to himself pressing two fingers on his forehead in a desperate effort to relieve the pain that was rising slowly but steady.

”Uncle Bilbo?” he heard a voice from behind. He turned to see the little boy at the bottom of the stairway looking at him worried.

“Are you alright?” Frodo asked him and Bilbo felt a warm feeling in his heart, something that he hadn’t felt for years. He smiled.

”Yes, my boy!” answered Bilbo and waved to him to come closer.

Frodo came and sat on his lap “Can you come upstairs? The train is not ready yet and I want to see how it works before I go to bed”.

The boy’s eyes were of a bright blue, bluer than his uncle’s, and they were looking at Bilbo who felt like he was looking into the very depths of the ocean. But there was something about this boy that couldn’t be childish. Something that Bilbo was sure that was a part of the real world and not the world that children live in. The one of fantasy and joy. No, there was something different about Frodo that made his uncle feel like he had to deal with an adult and that this is how he should be treating him, like a grown up man.

But not that night.

”Who needs plastic trains when you can have this?” he cheered in excitement and Frodo jumped. He certainly wasn’t expecting to be lifted up for a crazy back ride around the house while his uncle was making loud train noises.

They laughed and ran until Bilbo gave up. “I am older than you can imagine, Frodo! Really, I don’t think-..” Frodo didn’t let him finish the word and attacked him. They fell on the ground.

Bilbo was laughing more than the little boy and he was the one acting like a child the whole time. Frodo was giving instructions and shouting “hey” and ‘’not like that” whenever Bilbo was improvising. Nobody can really improvise when Frodo is in charge.

The clock started the countdown to midnight and it was Frodo’s time to give up. He immediately fell asleep on the couch. Bilbo found himself in the hard position to pick the boy up without waking him up. He felt helpless. The more he was trying to make gentle moves the clumsier his moves were.

It was impossible for little Frodo to wake up but, alas, poor Bilbo didn’t know. He, finally, climbed the stairs and entered Frodo’s room. He still wonders how he managed not to step on all these little train parts and lego pieces that were spread around the room as if they were tiny traps.

He left the boy on the bed and lifted the blanket up to cover his shoulders. It was starting to get really cold outside. The first snow wasn’t far.

He turned off the light and stood at the door. “Sweet dreams” he whispered and went down the stairs. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The day when Bilbo had to get on a plane and fly to Erebor was not far away. In fact It was too close.

He had everything arranged. He had talked to Frodo about the journey and the child was far too excited that he was spending the whole evening after school to paint caves and gemstones. All the drawings where hanged on the wall between the maps and posters.

Bilbo had found long ago that Frodo was used to go to a winter camp two years ago and some of the friends he made there were going at his new school. That was a fortunate turn of events.

He had phoned their families to make sure that the children were going to the camp this year too. He jumped to the moon when he learnt that they would.

He made sure that his priority was to speak to Frodo about this. “The sooner the better” he had thought.

The child had clearly a very good time at the camp because he couldn’t stop talking about it since the day Bilbo asked him if he would like to go there again for the winter.

He felt guilty and selfish that he had to leave him. What would Lobelia say if she found out that Bilbo’s abandoning Frodo to a camp? Because that is exactly what she would think. That Bilbo was abandoning Frodo to go after stones!

He felt dizzy again after a long time. He couldn’t think about it. Did he manage to be irresponsible towards the child from the very first two weeks?

He needed reassurance, someone to tell him that he’s doing the right thing for both of them.

That someone was Galadriel. She had come back to town for a few days and didn’t miss the opportunity to pay a visit to her very good friend.

She was there to help him pack the last things – both Bilbo and Frodo – and couldn’t stop laughing with the fact that she couldn’t decide who is more excited. Curly heads were running up and down the house, loud voices and laughter were filling the air.

Bilbo had managed, in all this confusion, to tell Galadriel how he was feeling like his life had changed. How he was feeling like he had everything he wanted.

He was living a meaningless life before but now he had found happiness. His days were busy and filled with warmth (no matter how freezing cold was outside) and all these bad dreams he used to have had stopped.

Galadriel was listening with her hand placed on Bilbo’s shoulder. She was smiling the whole time. Bilbo had noticed it and started to smile too. He stopped talking and looked at her.

She then wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer for a hug “I am so happy for you” she said brushing his back with her fingers.

__________________________________________________________________________________

At last, the day had finally come!

Frodo had left the day before for the winter camp so Bilbo didn’t have to worry about him and could focus on his work.

He locked the door behind him, dragging an over-large suitcase and a backpack filled with supplies and tools. They were quite heavy but he didn’t seemed to mind.

A cab was already waiting for him and the driver helped him drag the suitcases up. He sat comfortably on the seat and prayed to all the gods he could remember to have a good flight. He was kind of scared of long flights.

Bilbo stepped outside the car and he felt his heart beating so fast he could listen to the blood running through his veins.

”Take a deep breath” he reminded to himself. He took three.

It wasn’t only the flight that he was worrying about but also the fact that his “partner” wasn’t there. Or was he? He didn’t know.

That was mostly his fault. He should have called him and arrange a meeting with him before the flight but he was too busy with Frodo that he had completely forgot about it. Now it was too late to regret.

He kept taking breaths and started looking around. The airport was quite empty. He easily found a seat under a big clock and sat there keeping his eyes on every entrance.

The clock above his head was ticking loudly. It was almost eight o’clock “He should’ve been here” he sighed and a bad feeling started rising inside him.

”That’s not a good way to start an adventure” he said to himself and noticed that more people were coming.

”Perhaps it’s this one” he thought while looking at a man with a backpack. He passed in front of him and headed to a different hall meant for a different flight “No, not this one”.

The time was passing. Bilbo was starting to panic. He felt his hands sweaty and his head hot. He could feel his face getting pale and his lips dry. He let out a long sigh. He looked around and his eyes stopped on a familiar face.

A dark haired man was standing not far away from him and was looking for someone. His wavy hair was lifted up in a messy ponytail. That was familliar. It was definitely the man he shared a drive with when he was going to pick up Frodo from the same airport. He remembered he didn’t have the chance to thank him for dealing with the driver’s stubbornness on his behalf that day.

”Well, what do I have to lose? I could use a little chat right now” he thought and stood up confidently.

At the same time the other man started walking towards him. They both looked at each other and stopped walking. Bilbo felt like the man was examining him. “Did he remember me?” he questioned and moved forward.

The man spoke first “You must be Mr. Baggins” he smiled and reached out his hand for a handshake.

Bilbo froze. He blinked four times. The taller man found it amusing and let out a tiny laugh barely audible. “You didn’t expect me to know your name” he realized.

”Of course, not!” thought Bilbo. “Wh - How – How do you know my name? Why do I not know yours?” said finally Bilbo and he realized that he couldn’t stop looking at the man. There was something about him. Was it his classy suit that was too inappropriate for the occasion? He didn’t know.

”You didn’t read the brochure they send us? Isn't that slightly unprofessional?” exclaimed the man and Bilbo frowned. He opened his mouth to say something on his defense but he had no clue what was going on. "Isn't that slightly rude?" he wanted to say but stopped himself just in time.

”Us?” he said. “You mean that…Oh!”

”You finally get it. Thorin Oakenshield!” said Thorin and reached out for Bilbo’s hand and shook it.

Thorin stood as if he was waiting for something that never happened (a “nice to meet you” probably?). The man sighed “Do you need any help with these?” he said after a long pause in an effort to make the man in front of him to speak at last.

But Bilbo was gone. Mentally gone, of course, for he was standing right there doing or saying nothing. He felt captivated by … he had no clue by what! He was paralyzed, as if there was a poison running through his veins killing every cell of his body. He hadn’t felt like that since the last time he had fell…No, no, no, he didn’t even want to think about it. No, not now! He could not allow this to himself.

”Ah, no, thank you” he said trying to lift the backpack up in the most childish way. Even little Frodo would have managed better. “I can do it, see?” he reassured the man and the backpack fell right on his toes with a loud "whoof". He tried to hide the pain that was rising from his poor toes to the rest of his body, burning him, behind a forced smile. Thorin tried not to laugh and hurried to help the smaller man.

”You’re quite clumsy” said Thorin and lifted his own suitcase up without using any force. Bilbo felt like they were in some kind of competition. He really hope he would win, whatever this was.

”How” thought Bilbo while he was watching him walking away. “The answer must be hiding behind the fabric of his shirt” these thoughts weren’t supposed to be there. But he couldn’t help it. He followed the man and they both reached the baggage check on time.

They realized that their seats were close. In fact they were sitting right next to each other. “You don’t mind if I take a nap, right?” Thorin felt obliged to ask.

”Eh? What? Ah, no, not at all.” He smiled to him and added “I am probably going to sleep too”.

They finally got on the plane. Bilbo felt dizzy again and let Thorin lead him to their seats trying to ignore his hand around his waist. “He’s just trying to be nice” he kept reminding to himself.

Bilbo’s seat was near the window. That wasn’t a very comfortable fact. He turned to the other man and felt really bad when he saw that he had already found a comfortable position to sleep on his seat. It was late to aske him switch seats. He tried to avoid looking at him but luckily, Thorin noticed that his face had turned pale again.

He stood up “Are you OK?” he asked and seemed worried “You don’t feel alright? Should I call someone?”

All this attention he got from the taller man - completely out of the blue - made him feel dizzier.

”It’s nothing” he lied. He shifted his eyes to relieve the pain. “I’ll just sit right here and I’ll be fine (till the plane starts moving)”. He tried to smile.

”Ok, but I’ll keep an eye on you.” said Thorin and meant it.

The engine started making noises. They were moving “Oh, crap” Bilbo was scared and he couldn’t hide it. Thorin opened his eyes and turned his head (still pressed against the seat) to look at his co-passenger.

”Are you sure you’ll be ok?” he asked him “Do you fear of heights?” he said as if he’d found out something really important.

”Can you keep your voice down?” hushed him Bilbo waving his hand up and down while looking around to see if anyone was listening to them. Luckily, everyone was too busy talking to each other or too lazy to talk to anyone.

”Sorry.” apologized Thorin. “This is going to be an interesting flight”.

”No flight can be interesting when you are suffering from airsickness!” hurried to answer Bilbo and to avoid any contact with the window.

A woman’s voice was heard by the megaphone “Enjoy your flight”

”Hmph” Bilbo raised an eyebrow to the megaphone that made Thorin’s lip corners to rise as they both closed their eyes and sat back trying to get comfortable for the rest of the flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked this one. Please leave feed if you enjoyed it :)  
> Constructive criticism is always welcome!


	5. A not so clear night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally the next chapter is here!  
> I really enjoyed writing this one.  
> I think it's quite cute *hides*  
> u w u  
> It is small but oh, well

He had flew before and he remembers enjoying every minute of it. The feeling of freedom while the plane takes off, the little jump his heart does every time they’re flying through a storm. He loves everything that causes him to fear, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He enjoys testing his limits and when he overpasses them he feels like he had won a long wanted prize. 

It was different this time. The flight was peaceful as the weather was good. But his heart hadn’t stop beating faster than usual even if the plane was softly floating on air. Thorin was taking deep breaths to reduce the beating of his heart because he was feeling a headache rising.

Once they got off the plane he felt his partner’s eyes glued on him. He turned to face him and saw that the blond man was looking quite worried. 

“Are you ok?” asked him Bilbo as he was furiously trying to fit two suitcases in one arm.

Thorin nodded and thought that he could make himself useful by helping the poor man out but he waved away the thought. He didn’t want his partner to think that he is overconfident. Besides, Bilbo could manage perfectly on his own. Or not.

He turned his head back and opened his mouth but no sound came out because the sight was something new to him. Bilbo was literally drowning under coats and scarves. The sound of his suitcases falling made the whole airport to look at them. Some of them started giggling. Thorin shifted his eyes and slowly touched his forehead with two fingers.

”Why did you bring so many coats, anyway?” he muttered as he was trying to fit Bilbo’s coat into his own bag. The embarrassed short man was all flushed and his moves were uncontrollable.

”Wow, you should calm down” Thorin was desperately trying to make him feel better as he totally knew that flights were not his strong game. “We are not flying”.

”Say that to my head” breathed Bilbo “it is certainly still flying”. He was clearly not feeling any better.

Thorin felt the need to do something drastic to make Bilbo feel better. He simply couldn’t handle a furious little man running up and down to the hotel room, cursing everything and everyone for the rest of the evening. Because he somehow knew that Bilbo was definitely like that when something was wrong.

That was a useful detail he needed to keep in mind for the future.

”It is eight o’clock and we are still stuck in the airport” he tried to make him come to his senses “we are supposed to be at the hotel in half an hour”.

”Here, let me help you” he reached for Bilbo’s hand to help him get up faster and he was surprised of how small it was compared to his.

”Oh, thanks” Bilbo hurried to thank his partner by placing his hand on his back for a second. Or half a second.

They spoke to each other again once they got out of the airport to the main way and looking for a cab to drive them safely to the hotel.

”How far is the hotel?” asked Bilbo while he opened the back door of the first car they found waiting.

”Ehm” Thorin was looking something inside his backpack “Aha! I thought I left it home” he said while he was waving a brochure on the air like a precious trophy.

”Crap! I forgot mine!” Bilbo had forgotten something in the end. How could he not? How unprofessional to leave back the only guide he had for this place. Perhaps he should not have said that out loud, who knows what Thorin was thinking about him now.

”It’s ok, we can share mine or I can make you a copy if you want” Thorin was remarkably calm, his voice was making Bilbo feel comfortable and sure. “You shouldn’t worry about something so unimportant”. He said the address to the driver and reassured Bilbo that they will be to their destination sooner than expected.

Being late wasn’t something Bilbo was used to so this turn of events pleased him to the extreme. He let himself sit back to his seat as much comfortable as possible and took very deep breaths trying to push the flight out of his mind.

Thorin’s voice, who was cheerily chatting with the driver about good places to see around the town, made his eyelids heavy and he drifted into a deep sleep.

The drive was longer than Thorin had expected and once they get to the hotel the air was filled with a strong scent of flowers and wet grass. Thorin felt the urge to breathe so deeply and fill his lungs with the cold night air of the Dale.

They had to stay in Dale – a small town built at the base of Erebor aged above three hundred years – for the first three nights. At the fourth morning a man of the company was coming to lead them to the mountain to get to business.

Thorin got back in the car to wake Bilbo up as the driver was fighting with a large suitcase. Bilbo was curled up into a ball on the back seat and Thorin realized that he obviously didn’t want to wake up because he almost punched him in the face while he came closer.

”Oh, I am sorry” he squealed and sat back when he realized that Thorin was surprisingly laughing. “It was an accident” he said apologetically as he was stretching his arms.

”Please, promise me you won’t kill me before we reach the mountain” he smiled and patted him on his back softly.

”Does that mean that I can kill you once we get there?” he made a pitiful face when he saw that Thorin was not amused by this joke and was looking at him with his hands placed on the roof of the car blocking his way out of the car. “Not one of my best ones”.

Sure it wasn’t. But Bilbo was never good at jokes especially since he met Thorin Oakenshield. He was in fact feeling that he had lost the ability to even think of a good one. To think when is even the right time for a joke. He had lost the ability to do many things that he was perfect at before. Why? He had no idea. But he was curious to find out.

”No, indeed!” answered Thorin and finally let him out. “So, this is Dale” he said while looking around “and that is Erebor” he grabbed Bilbo’s shoulders and faced him right in front of the mountain’s sight. It was nothing but a huge black shadow, looking rather scary in the darkness of the night that was slowly falling around them.

”Very good first impression, I must say” exclaimed Bilbo “I can’t imagine us living up there on our own for the rest six months” he emphasized every single word.

”Don’t worry, you have the privilege to work with one of the most experienced collectors of the country” he really tried not to sound overconfident but he failed successfully.

”Do you really call yourself a “collector”?” asked Bilbo merrily.

”Don’t you?”

”No, not really” Bilbo smiled “why don’t we go inside? It’s freezing out here and our stuff are waiting in the guestroom already”.

This was undoubtedly a very good observation. What were they doing out there when they should be in the room getting ready for the first official meeting with the company’s spokesman?

They hurried to their room which was luckily at the first floor. Thorin opened the door and he rushed in to leave his personal things on the bed beside the window.

Bilbo was following him with his eyes as he sat on the bed jumping up and down, testing the softness of the mattress.

”Behave yourself, Mr. Oakenshield” he begged and opened his suitcase looking for a hair brush. Thorin obeyed and opened the window next to him. The night breeze brushed his face and he stepped out of the room. He could see Erebor and tried to separate the lines of the mountain of the darkness. He imagined all the treasures there were in the depths of it and he felt his heart skipping a beat. He didn’t hear Bilbo coming closer.

”I bet it looks beautiful on daylight” whispered Bilbo like he was trying to not wake someone up and Thorin turned to see his partner. His eyes widened and he stepped back to get a better look.

Bilbo lowered his head. He felt extremely uncomfortable. “They say it’s a formal meeting so I suppose that formal clothing is required” he tried to explain.

”Wh- oh! Yeah, no, no! I mean, yes, you.. The…” Thorin stopped. It was meaningless trying to find something useful to say. Bilbo was looking quite attractive in formal clothes and hair slicked back.

”If we had more time I would’ve fixed this damn thing” he said behind his teeth while trying desperately to stuff an unbowed curl in the hair mass.

Thorin couldn’t help but laugh “It is a nice touch, I think” said he while wearing his hair in a ponytail “and quite cute” he thought to himself (thankfully).


	6. First Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just feel at this point the need to clear out that I don't want you to expect much from me.  
> I mean, I am not writing a masterpiece here, just trying to get these two idiots do things together, any kind of things.  
> So yeah, I just hope you, i don't know, like it.  
> ♥ ♥ ♥  
> and I apologize for any mistakes :(

The first night in Dale was quite boring, Bilbo was thinking, hands supporting his head, trying to make himself comfortable without leaving the spokesman from his sight. The man was talking for, what, weeks? Bilbo sighed loudly while nodding to whatever the spokesman was saying. He should pay attention, he really should, but he was exhausted and was already thinking of hot tea and the warm bed he left in the hotel. He was certain that Thorin was feeling the same, even though he didn’t look like that. Bilbo liked the way his new partner was. Dedicated to his job, always aiming for perfection, no imperfection allowed.

This was obvious. The man was taking notes in a leather bound notebook. He noticed an engravement on the side of the small and as he reached out to get a closer look he caught Thorin’s sight and slowly sat back.

”So, gentlemen, now that you have the information you need I can send you back to your hotel room” the spokesman spoke louder than usual as if he had noticed that Bilbo was rather sleepy or that his mind was travelling somewhere only he could know.

”Information?” he thought eyes following Thorin who was gently lifting himself up and was shaking the man’s hand. Thorin gave him a look which meant that he should do the same – or at least he thought that this was what Thorin meant. He forced himself to take a step closer to the man whose arm was now expanded and looking down to Bilbo with eyes narrowed.

What _information_? He had heard nothing of the man’s speech. And he wasn’t very proud of it.

They finally shook hands and the two of them stepped out of what was supposed to be the company’s man office.

\---

It must have been a while since they’d left the office and were heading to the hotel. They decided – with not much of talking, just exchanging nods and murmurs – to take the long way so they could enjoy they walk in the quiet corners of the town. The orange light provided by the setting sun mixed with the bright yellow and white one coming from the tiny shops and cozy cafeterias made their hearts warm. Bilbo felt like he has been there before, in a dream, perhaps a distant memory from his childhood. He was wondering if Thorin was feeling the same. He could know if he was brave enough to look at him. But no, it wasn’t that easy with Thorin. He couldn’t be aware of his feelings by simply looking at him.

Thorin’s face was most of the time hard to read and as any other good riddle, Bilbo was more than willing to solve this one too when they wouldn't have the weight of the job on their shoulders. 

”What got into you?” chuckled Thorin as if he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to know what was going on in the little man’s mind since the time they first stepped their feet on the Dale. “Back to the office, I mean” he rubbed the back of his head with two fingertips.

Bilbo looked at him surprised that he had decided to break the awkward silence between them as they were walking back to the hotel. Thorin is usually the one who enjoys a bit of silence. “Nothing, I guess?” he replied to him trying to figure out if there was any need for him to feel offended by how rude the question had initially sounded. Thorin’s smile though, reassured him that he had no intention to offend him, not at all! In fact, he was looking amused by Bilbo’s behavior in the spokesman’s office.

”You acted like a five year old in there” Thorin was looking down his feet, hands in his pockets now. He caught himself staring at his partner’s shoes while they were walking through something that looked like a park. How they got there, he couldn’t remember even if he tried.

The place was quiet and they could hear silent conversations around them. Shadows were passing by; all of them seemed to enjoy their time. Thorin was still waiting for an answer. Bilbo wasn’t sure if he could give one.

The true fact is that he was somehow suspecting that the taller man had no intention of asking such questions other than starting a conversation.

”You know” he started “the truth is-“ he stopped and the last word faded and carried away by the sudden breeze that made the leaves above their heads shake doubtedly as if they were unsure if this will be the last time they would be attached to the large tree.

”Yes?” Thorin was brave enough to come closer to the small body standing in front of him. He leaned his head closer and he could hear and feel Bilbo’s uncertain breaths. He immediately regretted the move when Bilbo stepped back and turned his head to the side pretending that he was overhearing the conversation between a couple in front of them who seemed to have a little quarrel.

Thorin held his breath feeling his chest tight as if the shirt was trying to break his ribs.

He barely could recognize himself. He couldn’t remember him hurrying too much. Yes, he knew what he wanted right when he first saw the man waiting for him in the airport back to London. It was a feeling that he couldn’t feel for, what was it again? Ages? Yes, perhaps; and he had caught himself flying over the moon, singing on the top of his lungs when he realized that it was finally back.

But he felt that he’d crossed the line with this one. But it wasn’t entirely his fault. Bilbo was far too comfortable around him and almost opening every door for him that Thorin had simply forgotten about all the boundaries that would have normally kept him back. Not this time unfortunately. He had apparently misunderstood Bilbo’s behavior towards him. The man was probably so cheery and offering generously smiles to everyone.

That was bad luck.

\---

Bilbo decided to break the silence first this time. “Shall we?” he offered pointing at the path in front of them suggesting that they should keep walking. They did; faster this time. Bilbo was walking like there was a buzzing swarm of bees behind him. He wanted to stay alone for a while and they would be possible if they’d reached the hotel sooner.

He didn’t realized that he had left Thorin behind until he got to the hotel and the dark haired man wasn’t following him. He stood quite unsure at the main entrance of the hotel.

_Should I wait for him right here or should I go upstairs and lock myself in the bathroom? ___

The second thought won regarding the fact that this was his desire after all: to be alone.

He led his steps to the stairway completely ignoring the curious look of the young receptionist standing behind the reception bar. He hurried himself inside the room, buried his face in the pillow. _Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!_ He felt the urge to bang his head – or better, someone else’s head – on the wall. By “idiot” though, he didn’t quite know to whom he was referring: himself or Thorin?

_Or both?_

\---

He didn’t hear the door’s click as it opened slowly. A flushed face appeared behind it. Thorin, the owner of the face, nearly gasped when he saw the other man lied on the bed with his chest pressed against the mattress and head buried in the pillow. He couldn’t be sleeping, he had still his shoes and jacket on.

”Bilbo?

The man jumped and tried uncomfortably to stand on his knees as soon as possible. “I – I thought you … I thought I was …” He quitted trying to find an explanation for he wasn’t the one who had to give one. He slid out of the bed slowly and stood up to face Thorin who was now leaning against the door as he was expecting from Bilbo to ask him to leave. The smaller man was obviously in a shock and he knew it was his fault. He wanted to make things out but he didn’t know how. _How does one break the ice after doing something so stupid?_

Bilbo was breathing heavily and he was trying to avoid looking the man in the eye.

”You know we’re here to actually work, right? We will be inside Erebor in less than two days” his voice unsteady and shaky. He was feeling like he put too much effort to spell these words that his lungs were now aching.

”What were you trying to do? Ruin it all?” he continued facing now Thorin who had lowered his head as if he was a young boy who had just broken something his mother had loved and cherished. Vulnerable and quite scared.

”I am sorry” Thorin breathed and he meant it.

He really did.

”I thought …” he didn't really know what he thought. That Bilbo was interested in him? ,em>He is obviously trying to be friendly so they could get along together.

”Uh-uh” Bilbo laughed “we’re not doing that” he was smiling but it wasn’t the kind of smile Thorin was used to.

”You thought of what? Honestly!” he was expecting an answer and Thorin understood it. He was angry, yes, but he suddenly realised that he didn't exactly know the reason.

”Listen, for the sake of our work, we can” he paused and sighed “yeah, we can leave this incident behind and, you know, focus on our job?”

 _Yes, that sounded like a good plan._ Thorin nodded in agreement without daring to say a word. He had remained silent and Bilbo felt thankful for that.

”Good. Very good. Now, go to bed and be quiet” he demanded but Thorin noticed that his tone was softer now and the lines around his eyes were smooth and not intense. ,em>Maybe it wasn’t that bad after all.

After thirty minutes, that had felt like a century, they finally turned off every light in the small hotel room. Bilbo didn’t want to sleep without saying “Goodnight” even if he was still mad at Thorin. He rolled to face the man but Thorin had turned his back to him and was curled on his bed quiet.

”Goodnight” whispered Bilbo to a man who was seemingly asleep. Thorin heard his whisper and smiled relieved.

_Did he hear his sigh?_

He hoped not.


End file.
